


Dear Father Christmas

by A_Book_Thief



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Advent Calendar 2015, Gen, Letters to Santa, christmas quotes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-04 08:52:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 5,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5328122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Book_Thief/pseuds/A_Book_Thief
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Harry-Potter-Advent's-Calendar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ronald Weasley

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys, welcome to my Harry-Potter-advent-calendar! It’s basically very simple: I’ve taken 24 characters of the Potter Universe, written 24 letters to Father Christmas in their name and will update that little waste of my time every day till Christmas. I really hope you’ll enjoy it; I had a blast writing it :)  
> All characters are seven years old when they write their letters.

_It was the beginning of the greatest Christmas ever. Little food. No presents. But there was a snowman in their basement._

_—Markus Zusak, The Book Thief_

 * * *

Dear Father Christmas,

I wanted to ask you for a broomstick this year, but Mummy said you’ve got some delivery problems with your house-elves and that brooms aren’t a-vail-a-ble (that’s her word) for a while, so I’m asking you for a chess game instead. I think that chess is very fascinating and I really want to learn it, so there, it would be great. Percy even has promised me that he’ll teach me, can you believe it? I mean, he’s always nose-deep in some books and has hardly ever time for me.

Oh, and before I forget it, there’s another thing I wanted to ask you for: I want to be very famous one day. I want to be Head Boy at Hogwarts and win the Quidditch World Cup and become Minister for Magic and fly to Mars on a broomstick. I don’t know if you can help me with that and you really don’t have to go to any trouble, but if you can, I would be very glad.

Thanks,  
Ron

PS: Could you please jinx Fred and George into toads? It doesn’t have to be for, you know, forever, just over the holidays should be fine. They always make fun of me and I just want to wake up one peaceful morning without a spider crawling over my thigh. (Or maybe, you know, let them be toads forever. They’ve deserved it.)


	2. Hermione Granger

_At one time, most of my friends could hear the bell, but as years passed, it fell silent for all of them. Even Sarah found one Christmas that she could no longer hear its sweet sounds. Though I’ve grown old, the bell still rings for me, as it does for all who truly believe._

_—Chris Van Allsburg, The Polar Express_

* * *

Dear Father Christmas,

My Mummy has read that book Matilda to me as a bedtime story (but she’s only read a few chapters so I turned on the lights after she left and finished it by myself) and I really liked it. It’s about a very intelligent girl who can move things with her thoughts. I think that’s really great and then, you know, I tried it by myself and I swear (and you know that I never ever lie) that the books in my shelf moved. It wasn’t the first time that something like that has happened and it is what I ask you for this year.

I want this to be real. I want to be special. I want to do magic things.

(If you can’t fix that for me, I’ll be happy with any sort of books.)

Love,  
Hermione

PS: I hope you’ll like the cookies I made for you. (I used the soy milk to make them, just in case you are lactose intolerant.) You can have all the chocolate ones; Mummy says they’ll just rot my teeth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’ll have to do a little exception here. Hermione is, of course, talking about Roald Dahl’s Matilda, and that book came out in 1988, when Hermione already had been nine years old (she was born on 19th September 1979). I wanted all characters to be seven years old, but I also like the idea that Hermione and Matilda are very alike in some ways and I think that Hermione would’ve really liked the book. So yeah, that’s the little exception. All other characters will be seven, though.


	3. Viktor Krum

_I will honour Christmas with my heart, and try to keep it all the year._

_—Charles Dickens_

* * *

Uvazahaemi Dyado Koleda,

I’d like to have a broomstick for Christmas. I want to learn how to fly. Actually my Father said that he’ll teach me and that we can fly together over the forests and meadows towards the Black Sea once I’ve learned it. And he also promised to take me to a Quidditch match when I’ve learned it.

You see, a lot depends on a fair broom.

Because I think I will become a Quidditch player when I’m older. A really, really famous one. Father encourages me a lot. He had been a Beater during his years at Durmstrang. But I think I’d rather be a Seeker. You’ve got the whole match in your hand when you’re a Seeker. You can decide when to end it and that’s pretty cool.

Anyway, that’s everything. Thanks in advance.

S uvazhenie,  
Viktor

PS: The new Nimbus would be nice one. Or one of the Comet series.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I translated the Bulgarian correctly. If not, I’m very sorry. (Dyado Koleda, or Дядо Коледа, is the Bulgarian Father Christmas.)


	4. Nymphadora Tonks

_To the American People:_  
_Christmas is not a time or season, but a state of mind._

_—Calvin Coolidge, Presidential Message, December 25, 1927_

* * *

Dear Father Christmas,

How are you? I’m fine, by the way. No. Actually that’s a lie. I’m not fine and I’ll never be. Not with that horrible name. Nymphadora. Ugh! (Is it my fault that my grandparents called my mother Andromeda? No, of course not! Why did she have to take her frustration out on me, then?)

Anyway, if you want to make me really, really happy, give me a new name as a Christmas present. I’ve already chosen a few that I like, now it’s up to you to pick the most beautiful one. (I’ll gladly take anything that isn’t Nymphadora.)

~Miranda  
~Isabelle  
~Coraline  
~Gwendolyn  
~Grace  
~Louisa  
~...

Choose wisely!

All the best,  
Miranda Isabelle Coraline Gwendolyn Grace Louisa

PS: I’ve just decided that, if I don’t like my new name, I’ll simply go by my surname in the future. Tonks does have a nice ring to it, doesn’t it? Tonks, Tonks, Tonks...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> According to the Harry Potter Wikia, Nymphadora literally means "Gift of the Nymphs."


	5. Remus Lupin

_He told me, coming home, that he hoped the people saw him in the church, because he was a cripple, and it might be pleasant to them to remember upon Christmas Day, who made lame beggars walk and blind men see._

_—Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol_

* * *

Dear Father Christmas,

If you exist, could you please do me a favour? I don’t know anybody else to ask, because nothing seems to help anymore. Maybe you are the only one who is able to help me.

I don’t want to be a werewolf anymore. It sucks.

The transformations hurt so much. I bite and scratch myself because there is no one to fight with. I run round and round in circles in the little storage room my father locks me into during full moon nights because there’s always this awful need to move and hunt and bite. I hate it so much.

Also, it makes my parents sad. My father is blaming himself because he was the one to insult Greyback and then Greyback bit me. My mother cries a lot, you know. At night, when she thinks I’ve already fallen asleep. She doesn’t want to see me in pain. I don’t want to see her crying anymore.

They try so hard, you know. They try everything they can do to find a cure for me, but slowly I’m losing hope that they’ll ever find anything. So I’m writing to you, instead, Father Christmas. I’m asking you just for one little miracle. Would you do that just for me? Just stop it. Stop this.

Please .

Yours,  
Remus

PS: If you are not able to help me, could you then just make sure that I am able to go to Hogwarts when I turn eleven? My parents are not sure if the Headmaster will allow me to. (I can’t blame him. I become a monster once a month, after all.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This time it’s a sad one. Sorry (not sorry) about that, but I don’t think that Remus has gotten accustomed to being a werewolf any time soon. 
> 
> To cheer you up a little, this random fun fact: _Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia ___is the fear of long words and it consists of nothing short but 36 letters.


	6. Albus Dumbledore

_Christmas is a necessity. There has to be at least one day of the year to remind us that we’re here for something else beside ourselves._

_—Eric Sevareid_

* * *

Dear Father Christmas,

I am writing to request my gifts for this year’s Christmas Eve (and mostly because Mother has told me to do so).

I am finding myself currently in the sitting room with my siblings switching Chocolate Frog Cards on the floor beside me, so this thought was the first to enter my mind: Could you please ensure that my family will always be as safe and sound as possible? (They do give me a hard time often, but I love them nevertheless.)

Furthermore I would be grateful if you would enable me to get my own subscription of Transfiguration Today, because every time I ask Father for his issue, he laughs softly, pats my head and tells me I’m too young to understand it properly. (He can be so small minded at times)

Also would I be grateful if you would send me n new pair of socks. Aberforth’s got the annoying habit to “borrow” mine when he goes visiting the goats. (He can be a real twat despite his tender age; he’s merely committed his fourth birthday this year.)

Yours sincerely,  
Albus

PS: Ariana demanded the addition of her wish to this letter as well (for she’s barely able to write it out by herself). She asks for a dollhouse if I didn’t misunderstand her lisping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I know, good old Dumbledore is using rather big words according to his age. But this is Albus Freaking Percival Wulfric Brian _Dumbledore ___, and I couldn’t imagine him any other way. When he was seven, Aberforth was four and Ariana three years old, by the way.


	7. Ginny Weasley

_Christmas works like glue, it keeps us all sticking together._

_—Rosie Thomas, Iris And Ruby_

* * *

Dear Father Christmas,

I hope you stay well and didn’t get the cold like I did last week. Mum made me drink Pepper Up Potion and it was absolutely horrible, steam coming out of my ears for hours. (The twins came up with calling me locomotive and now everybody in the family does. They do annoy me some times.) Anyway, I’ve got three wishes this year:

~ I want to turn eleven in an instant so that I can attend Hogwarts already next year because I really don’t want to wait for another four years.

~ I don’t want the others to find out that I’m breaking into the broom shed and taking their brooms out in turn. Mum would be mad. (But I do want to be a great Quidditch player someday.)

~ I don’t want Fred and George to give me another toilet paper roll as a Christmas present like they did last year. They may think to be funny, but honestly, oftentimes they are not.

xoxo,  
Ginny

PS: The cute little plush owl I saw in Diagon Alley would be a lovely addition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will Fred and George withstand the temptation or will she get another toilet paper roll for Christmas this year? You’ll find out soon … ;)


	8. Sirius Black

_It struck him that how you spent Christmas was a message to the world about where you were in life, some indication of how deep a hole you had managed to burrow for yourself._

_—Nick Hornby, About a Boy_

* * *

Dear Father Christmas,

I’d like to find a new family underneath the Christmas tree because mine is driving me completely insane.

My Mother is the impersonation of evil, my Father is a douchebag (YES, I’M USING A BAD WORD!) and Regulus is a bootlicker (AGAIN!). Not to mention Kreacher, our house-elf, who practically worships the ground they’re walking on. He would kiss Mothers sweaty feet if she would ask him to!

I’d rather like to have a Mum who hugs me and kisses my forehead when she brings me to bed, a Dad who tells me how proud he is of me and a brother who is funny and normal and with whom I can play Gobstones. (And I definitely don’t want a house-elf, they’re very strange creatures.)

That’s all I’m asking for.

Best wishes,  
Sirius

PS: If that shouldn’t work, just give me a bunch of money, ‘cause then I can escape on my own.

PPS: And please make sure that my beloved cousin Bellatrix will be struck by lightning in the nearer future. She’s really awful.


	9. Rubeus Hagrid

_‘Twas the night before Christmas,_  
_when all through the house,_  
_not a creature was stirring,_  
_not even a mouse._

_—Clement Clarke Moore_

* * *

Dear Fathe’ Chris’mas,

Yeh oughta know tha’ I’ve been good all yea’, helpin’ Dad an’ all, so I’ve only got one big wish an’ tha’s a dragon egg. Maybe yeh think tha’ it isn’t a good idea, ‘cause it coul’ turn out ter be kinda dangerous but I think I mighta ‘andle it well. I’ve got tha’ book where I try ter read all ‘bout them an’ I believe tha’ I’m able ter raise one by myself. Anyway, tha’s everythin’ I want from yeh this year.

All ‘e best,  
Rubeus

PS: Coul’ yeh manag’ it ter be an ‘ungarian ‘orntail? I do really like ‘em. An’ pleas’ look afte’ good ol’ Dad once in a whil’. He’s workin’ very ‘ard.


	10. Teddy Lupin

_Christmas is our time to be aware of what we lack, of who’s not home._

_—John Irving, A Prayer for Owen Meany_

* * *

Dear Father Christmas,

I won’t be much of an effort for you. My godfather Harry (yeah, the Harry in case you wonder) already promised me to take me to a match of the Holyhead Harpies. I know, it’s not that – I mean, they’re all women (but maybe I shouldn’t write this, aunt Ginny could get angry (and from what I have heard from uncle Ron, are her Bat-Bogey Hexes quite impressive)). Grandma Dromeda said I could get a Quaffle-set if I am a good boy (and Honeydukes Chocolate) and Uncle George told me to come to Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes to pick out a present myself, so I’m really happy at the moment. (Granny wasn’t all too happy about Uncle George’s offer. I wonder why.)

But one thing I’ll ask you nevertheless: Could you just drop by my parents – wherever they are – and tell them that I really, really love them and that I miss them and that they are the best parents I could’ve ever had wished for? And could you greet them from Granny, too? (I know she misses them just as much as I do.) Tell them I’m doing fine. Tell them I love them. Tell them many times.

Thanks,  
Teddy

PS: And give them a kiss. And hug them for me.


	11. Fleur Delacour

_Christmas waves a magic wand over this world, and behold, everything is softer and more beautiful._

_—Norman Vincent Peale_

* * *

Cher Pére Noël,

How are you? I hope everything is fine and you can get your job done without suffering from too much stress. I really don’t want to be much of a burden, so here is my only wish: I’ve seen that beautiful doll in a toy shop in Montmartre (the magical part of it, you know, where you enter through the mirror of a shabby little souvenir shop). It’s got blonde hair (just like me) and two cute braids and a very beautiful navy-blue dress. I love that doll. It’s all I want. I could make its hair and design new clothes and show it to my friends and it would be so much fun. (I’ve already considered calling her Adrienne. Doesn’t that sound lovely?)

I surely would be very, very grateful.

Meilleures salutations,  
Fleur

PS: I’ve made you some cookies with extra chocolate. I hope you’ll like them.


	12. Fred and George Weasley

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> George’s inputs are in _italics_. (Just imagine him having a slightly different handwriting than his twin.)

_In the old days it was not called the Holiday Season; the Christians called it ‘Christmas’ and went to church; the Jews called it ‘Hanukkah’ and went to synagogue; the atheists went to parties and drank. People passing each other on the street would say ‘Merry Christmas!’ or ‘Happy Hanukkah!’ or (to the atheists) ‘Look for the wall!’_

_—Dave Barry_

* * *

Dear Master of the Universe Father Christmas,

We thought you’d rather notice our letter if we address you like we think you really want to be called, don’t you? (We would definitely like it, even though Charlie says we’re talking nonsense and hell freezes over before he begins to call us Masters like a house-elf.) There are a bunch of favours we want to ask you for:

~ Please make sure that Mum doesn’t confiscate our holy Dungbombs stocks (and by the way we’ll probably need new ones as soon as we return from great-aunt Muriel’s house ( _don’t ask_ )).

~ Please make sure that Mum doesn’t find out what we gave Errol, it’s too nice to hear him trumpet at three in the morning

~ Please make sure that Bill never ever figures out that we put Bulbadox Powder in his underwear. ( _You know what, Fred? I suspect he knows by now. Have you seen the nasty little looks he gave us during dinner?_ Maybe you’re right, George, we’d better be prepared. Nobody’s as dangerous as a man wounded in his pride seeking vengeance ...)

~ Please make sure that Mum doesn’t notice that we took most of the toilet paper. ( _Ginny will be so thrilled!_ )

~ Please make sure that Mum ( _or Dad, it’s rather him_ ) don’t go to the henhouse for at least half a year or they will get a heart attack. ( _I don’t know how you think about it, Fred, but in my opinion the hens do look gorgeous in pink._ Yeah. And poisonous.)

~ Please make sure that Bill is the first and last Weasley with a prefect badge ‘cause he’s setting Mum’s expectations quite high. ( _Don’t you ever dare, Charlie Weasley!_ What about Percy, George? _He’s a dead loss, Fred. Look at him; he’s got Head Boy written all over his forehead_.)

~ And last but not least, please make sure to jinx Ronnie into a toad. He’s deserved nothing better. ( _Or put some spiders into his bed while he’s sleeping._ Fabulous idea, George, come on, we’ve got a new mission!)

At your service,

Vice Masters of the Universe,  
Fred and _George_

PS: Never show this letter to any member of the Weasley family!


	13. Bill Weasley

_My idea for Christmas, whether old-fashioned or modern, is very simple: loving others. Come to think of it, why do we have to wait for Christmas to do that?_

_—Bob Hope_

* * *

Dear Father Christmas,

Could you please do something to stop this war? I don’t want this anymore. I don’t want people to die and suffer and getting hurt by those evil blokes Mum and Dad whisper about – those Death Meaters or whatever you call them. I don’t want Mum to cry every time we get owl mail because just another one she knew has died. I don’t want Dad to look so worried and tired when he gets home. I don’t want my Uncles Gideon and Fabian do these dangerous things for that guy Dumblydore (I overheard them when they argued in the kitchen) because it’s making Mum sad. Could you please try to stop You-Know-Who? I would be so, so glad.

Oh, and could you please make Mum to stop being so moody? She’s getting fatter every day and I think that makes her angry. Yesterday she yelled at me because I had forgot to put away my toy cauldron and she stumbled over it. Dad says it’s because we’ll have a little new brother next year, or maybe two, if he isn’t mistaken. As if Charlie and Percy and I aren’t enough!

Cheers,  
Bill

PS: Mum wants me to include my brothers’ wishes as well since they are too small to hold a quill. Charlie says he wants a broomstick and Percy says “Lalabubbledibapdibop”. Whatever that means.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At the Christmas when Bill was seven years old, Mrs Weasley had been pregnant with Fred and George. They were born on April 1 the year after. Just in case you didn’t understand.


	14. Luna Lovegood

_Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn’t before! What if Christmas, he thought, doesn’t come from a store? What if Christmas ... perhaps ... means something more!_

_—Dr. Seuss, How the Grinch Stole Christmas_

* * *

Dear Father Christmas,

I hope you’re okay and not bothered by too many Nargles. They often hide in mistletoes and there are too many unconcerned people who like to hang those up all around the house on Christmas time. Mummy says that mankind has become careless.

Speaking of her, Mummy’s currently lying in bed (one of her spells went wrong and now she’s covered with humming purple and green boils that won’t go away) ... and Dad’s not the best cook, so for Christmas I just want her to get better. She’s promised to take me to that village in Yorkshire, Maulsford-upon-Fladger, to investigate a colony of Blibbering Humdingers (a subscriber of The Quibbler wrote us a letter about it) and I’m really looking forward to, so please just make sure she’ll getting better within the next days.

Try to stay safe.

Best wishes,  
Luna

PS: If you ever have the misfortune of meeting an Icelandic Grunting Screecher, RUN for your dear life! (Daddy’s researching them for an article and he told me that their screams can make your ears explode!)


	15. Severus Snape

_Christmas is the day that holds all time together._

_—Alexander Smith_

* * *

Dear Father Christmas,

I saw that girl yesterday at the playground. She was with her sister and she had a funny striped woolly hat and there was red hair everywhere and she basically laughed the whole time. I was at my usual spot behind the tree and watched her for a while and then she made a snowball and threw it at her sister, but instead of hitting the other girl on the shoulder it flew round and round her body like a strange bird. I’m eating my hat if she isn’t a witch.

A witch in my neighbourhood.

All I want for Christmas is for her to notice me. Because I think that she might be able to understand me. That she understands what it is to not be normal.

And maybe she won’t laugh. Maybe she won’t call me weirdo. Maybe we could be friends. That’s what I want. Having her as a friend. Could you somehow fix that for me?

Yours sincerely,  
Severus

PS: And maybe you could bring me some syrup of hellebore for my potions set? Mine’s run out and Dad refuses to buy me some. He hates magic stuff. And Mum’s too afraid of him to help me.


	16. Albus Severus Potter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> James's input is in _italics ___.

_One of the most glorious messes in the world is the mess created in the living room on Christmas Day. Don’t clean it up too quickly._

_—Andy Rooney_

* * *

Dear Father Christmas,

It’s rather difficult to write you because James keeps throwing Chocolate Frogs at my head and Lily’s singing that Oldie song from the Weird Sisters she loves so much and hardly ever hits the right tones.

Dad says he won’t get me a broomstick for Christmas because it’s too dangerous and that I should take fly lessons at Hogwarts before he lets me touch one. He has no idea. Maybe I’m just as talented as he and James are. (You know, my brother has stolen his Firebolt in summer. It was a memorable day.)

So, however, what I want for Christmas instead is an owl. My dad’s one, Dobby, is nice and all but he always needs it for work, so I can never borrow it for writing Teddy at Hogwarts or Rose or my other cousins. I’d like to have a barn owl and I’ve already decided to call it Merlin (or Morgain if it’s a female).

Oh, and before I forget: don’t bring James anything! (Not even a quill.) He definitely has not been good all year, despite everything he might tell you in his letter!

All the best,  
Albus Severus

_PS: Forget what Al’s written above. He tells nonsense. Maybe he suffers from severe brain-damage ‘cause I’ve hit him with too many Chocolate Frogs. – Cheers, James Sirius, the very first and only (and best)_


	17. Draco Malfoy

_“I need a weapon,” Valkyrie muttered._

_“You’re an Elemental with a Necromancer ring, trained in a variety of martial arts by some of the best fighters in the world,” Skulduggery pointed out. “I’m fairly certain that makes you a weapon.”_

_“I mean a weapon to hold. You have a gun, Tanith has a sword ... I want a stick.”_

_“I’ll buy you a stick for Christmas.”_

_—Derek Landy, Mortal Coil (Skulduggery Pleasant, 5)_

* * *

Dear Father Christmas,

Don’t expect me to beg. Either you get me what I want or you get me what I want. There is no in between.

—I want a new broom. Cleansweep Seven or Comet Three Sixty are acceptable.

—I want an owl. Make sure it’s a big one. No screech owls. An eagle owl would be cool.

—I want that book from Borgin & Burkes that’s all about magical torture methods.

—I want at least a ton of Honeydukes Chocolates.

—I want that Mother stops calling me Sweetheart.

—I want that Father takes me to the Ministry of Magic next time he’s going to meet Fudge. (I want to see the Fountain of Magical Brethren.)

—I want that our stupid house-elf finally learns to tidy up correctly without breaking something every time when he cleans my room.

—I want to go to the next match of the English Quidditch-team.

Yours sincerely,  
Draco

PS: Better make sure to do everything of the aforementioned, or my Father will hear about this.


	18. Dolores Umbridge

_He who has not Christmas in his heart will never find it under a tree._

_—Roy L. Smith_

* * *

Dear Father Christmas,

I would be very grateful if you’d bring me that pink cardigan I’ve seen last week in Diagon Alley, it looked so lovely and so very, very fluffy.

Furthermore I want to request the flowery dress from the same shop (because the colours would match so perfectly) and a pair of black patent-leather shoes to complete the impression.

Then I’d like to ask you to punish these horrible, naughty twin girls Rosalie and Amelia from down the road, because they’ve taken my Poetry album and never returned it! (I’d love to see them suffer...)

xoxo,  
Dolores

PS: My cat Euphemia is ill. Could you please ensure that she gets better?


	19. Fred Weasley II

_Moving between the legs of tables and chairs, rising or falling, grasping at kisses and toys, advancing boldly, sudden to take alarm, retreating to the corner of arm and knee, eager to be reassured, taking pleasure in the fragrant brilliance of the Christmas tree._

_—T.S. Eliot_

* * *

Dear Father Christmas,

This letter’s from me and Roxanne because she’s too young to write one on her own. This is the list of our wishes:

~We want Mum and Dad to take us to Romania to visit Uncle Charlie because we’d love to see real, enormous and dangerous dragons with razor-sharp teeth

~We’d like to go to the Quidditch World Cup in the Patagonian desert next year in July. (I’ve already asked Dad about it, but he has only smiled and said that we’ll see.)

~Roxy says she’d like to get the same dress-up witch like our cousin Lucy and a real unicorn

~And I just want Dad not to look so heartbroken on Christmas Eve when I unwrap the Christmas-jumper with the large F that Grandma knits for me every year. I don’t want him to be sad. I just want him to be happy.

May your beard even grow longer,  
Fred and Roxanne

PS: Don’t tell Dad that we’ve stolen some of his Puking Pastilles to trick the kids next door. (But they laughed about Roxy’s braids! It was an act of justice!)


	20. Dobby

_Christmas, my child, is love in action._

_—Dale Evans Rogers_

* * *

Dear Master Christmas,

Dobby isn’t allowed to write this letter but he has prepared the iron already. Masters won’t notice. Masters like to see Dobby punishing himself. Masters will find always a reason.

Dobby’s Mother has said that Dobby shouldn’t complain. Dobby has to put on a brave face and be always at his Masters’ services. But Dobby will not.

Dobby wants to be a free elf. That’s all he ever desires. Dobby wants to be free. Dobby wants to be his own Master. Dobby doesn’t want to punish himself anymore. And one day, Dobby is sure, his dream will come true. Dobby only lives for that day to come. Dobby believes.

All the best,  
Dobby, a house-elf

PS: Dobby really likes Master Christmas’ long white beard. It looks quite impressive.


	21. Minerva McGonagall

_Christmas Eve was a night of song that wrapped itself about you like a shawl. But it warmed more than your body. It warmed your heart ... filled it, too, with melody that would last forever._

_—Bess Streeter Aldrich, Song of Years_

* * *

Dear Father Christmas,

It’s snowing outside (to be honest, it’s actually a blizzard), therefore it’s too cold to go out and fly on my toy broomstick, so there, I decided to write you a letter.

Mum’s said that I should ask you to bring me that book about Quidditch I recently saw at Flourish & Blotts, but I’ve got a much better idea.

I want a cat (or rather a kitten). I really love cats and I wish to have such a small bundle of fur to play along and cuddle with. I would call it Asphodelia and it would be my very best friend on earth. Please, could you do that for me? It would make me so, so happy.

Love,  
Minerva

PS: One day I’m going to be a cat by myself, you’ll see.


	22. Neville Longbottom

_Expectancy is the atmosphere for miracles._

_—Edwin Louis Cole_

* * *

Dear Father Christmas,

I’ve only got one wish (and it’s the same as last year and the years before). When I walk into the Janus Thickey Ward in St. Mungo’s on Christmas Day, I want my parents to recognize me. I want my Mum to hug and kiss me and I want my Dad to pat me on the back saying that he’s proud to be my Father. I want them to tell me that they love me. I want them to know my name. I just ... Is that too much to ask? I just want to be their real son for a moment, not a stranger who drops by occasionally. I just want us to be a family.

That’s all I ask for. That would be enough.

Best wishes,  
Neville

PS: And I don’t want to be a Squib. I know that Granny thinks I am. I don’t want to disappoint her. She’s got only me left.


	23. Tom Riddle

_And in despair I bowed my head;_  
_“There is no peace on earth,” I said;_  
_“For hate is strong,_  
_And mocks the song_  
_Of peace on earth, good-will to men!”_

_—Henry Wadsworth Longfellow_

* * *

Father Christmas,

I don’t really believe in your existence, but Mrs Cole forced us all into writing a letter, so here you are. I should list my wishes for Christmas Eve, she has told me. As if one of them is ever going to be true, nice joke. What a stupid woman, I deeply despise her.

I’ve got a lot of desires, you know.

First of all, I want Mrs Cole dead. And I want her dying in the most painful of ways. I want to see her suffer, hear her begging for mercy. And I want to do it by myself.

Second, I want to leave the Orphanage, that dingy, filthy place and I want to never ever return. I want to leave them all behind, that knucklehead Billy Stubbs and his mangy rabbit, the moron Dennis Bishop, little, whiny Amy Benson, all of them. And before I go, I want to teach them a lesson they’ll never forget.

Third, I want a new name. I hate my name. It’s so common. Tom. Everybody’s named Tom. Tom is boring. I don’t want to be boring. I want to be different. I want to be powerful. I want to be feared. (I think the other orphans fear me. But they are scaredy-cats. They don’t count.) I want the adults to fear me.

Yours truly,  
Riddle

PS: No, I won’t sign it with my first name. It’s stupid. It’s mundane. I despise it.


	24. Harry Potter

_I didn’t feel like buying him the jacket he asked for for Christmas, so I just got him a coat hanger with a sticky note attached that read, “Here’s something for you to hang your dreams on, pal.”_

_—Jarod Kintz, There are Two Typos of People in This World: Those Who Can Edit and Those Who Can’t_

* * *

Dear Father Christmas,

I really hope you’ll hide this letter well from the nosy noses of the Dursleys. Aunt Petunia would only be mad and yelling at me for being stupid (“How dare you to steal all the attention from Dudley, the only boy in this house who’s been good enough all year to GET something for Christmas?”), uncle Vernon would say that I have to be grateful for what they gave to me (“Petunia and me are struggling for getting you through, unthankful boy, and that’s your answer? MORE wishes?”) and Dudley would laugh and say that you don’t listen to boys who live in a cupboard under the stairs (“Who do you think knows you’re in there? And who do you think would care?”).

Speaking of which, that’s what I wanted to ask you about. I don’t want to live under the staircase anymore. It’s dark and pokey and full of spiders. I hate it there. Sometimes I feel like a grubby old broom the Dursleys only want to store away and forget about. They’re always so mean. I wish they wouldn’t treat me like the uncontrollable dog of an unpleasant guest. I wish they would be a little like Mum and Dad.

That’s another thing I wanted to write you about. The Dursleys have said that my parents died in a car crash. That’s the only thing I know about them. I don’t even have the slightest idea what they’ve looked like. I’ve never seen any pictures of them. If it weren’t for me, I think, aunt Petunia would’ve forget that she used to have a sister long ago. It’s sad, you know. I only want to know what they were like. What they have liked and what not. Who their friends were. If they have loved me. And why they had to die. Uncle Vernon once said that they were drunk. I don’t believe it. Parents wouldn’t risk driving drunk when they’ve got a baby in the backseat. That’s not right. Parents shouldn’t leave their children ... only ... only when they really have to.

Okay, I’ll better finish quickly; I can hear Dudley crashing down the stairs for breakfast like a thousand hooligans. (Three spiders just fell onto the paper, two onto my bed, five down at the floor. That’s a new record.)

Best wishes,  
Harry

PS: And could you bring me some new jumpers, too? I don’t like wearing Dudley’s old ones. They are twice my size and uncomfortable and ugly. But now, I better get going. Aunt Petunia just called me the third time. And she sounded very annoyed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who has taken their time to read this. Thanks for the Kudos and the lovely comments. You made me smile every day. *hands out Christmas cookies for everyone*


End file.
